The Jumping Detective
by Little Miss Beatlemaniac
Summary: The ledge scene from Yes Man? Amazing. The edge scene from Sherlock? Suspenseful. What do you get when you cross them together?...Amazingly suspenseful. Rated T for attempted suicide, I guess. Short story.


**A/N: OMG! I just got inspired by a clip of the ledge scene in Yes Man and the second season finale in Sherlock! Now, I am combining both to make an alternate parody where Sherlock tries to jump off the edge and John gets him not to. Enjoy! Please R & R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, Yes Man, parodies, or Jim Carrey's fabulous singing voice. X-D**

(Third-Person P.O.V.)

"What's going on?!"

"Is he gonna jump, Mum?!"

"Why is he _up_ there?!"

Sounds of distressed voices filled the streets of London as they exclaimed over the man standing on the edge of the building. But this was no ordinary man on the edge. He was an iconic consulting detective named Sherlock Holmes.

"Oi! Get the hell out of the way! Can't you see I'm trying to kill myself?! God, ordinary humans are so _stupid_!" Sherlock shouted from up above. He face palmed himself.

Lestrade and Mycroft sought for John's help immediately. John arrived in a London taxi. When he saw his friend on the edge of the building, he muttered,

"Bloody hell..."

"John! Oh, thank God you're here! We can't get him to come down and we're so _scared_!" Mrs. Hudson cried out. John ignored everything that everyone was saying and ran inside the building. Then he ran up several flights of stairs until he finally reached the top of the building. Sherlock smiled sheepishly upon his arrival.

"John, love, I was hoping you wouldn't see me like this," he chuckled nervously.

"What the frick are you _doing_?! Sherlock Holmes, get away from that edge this _instant_!" John barked angrily. He had no time for such childish games he often played with the taller man.

"No, you don't understand! I _have_ to jump! I _must_!" Sherlock hissed, his cyan eyes reflecting back urgency. John thought over his options on preventing the situation. Then, he rushed towards the exit. "Hey! Where are you going?! I _need_ you!" Sherlock shouted.

"I'll be right back, you daft git!" John retorted. He went inside somebody 's flat. It was empty, so he took the violin that rested on the table. If anything convinced Sherlock not to make bad decisions, it was the sound of the violin being played. He went back to where Sherlock was standing and tried playing it.

"What the _hell_?! John, that's not _tuned_! _Gimme_ that!" Sherlock tuned it and handed it back.

"Sorr-_y_," John grumbled, before he started to play the violin and sing,

"I wish you would step back from the edge my friend,

We could cut ties with all the lies that you've been livin' in,

A-And, if you do not want to see me again,

I would understa-a-and! I would understa-a-and!"

John paused in singing, realizing that he had forgotten the lyrics that came after. "Dammit. _How's_ it go, again?" Sherlock sang the next few lyrics without flaw. He had a great singing voice.

"The angry boy a bit too insane,

Icing over a secret pain,

You know you do-on't belong!

You're the first to fight,

You're way too loud,

You're the flash of light on a burial shroud,

I know something's wro-ong!"

The crowd below cheered and John remembered more lyrics on his own, violin still in hand.

"Well, everyone I know has got a reason

To say you can put the past away!

I wish you would step back from the edge my friend,

We could cut ties with all the lies that you've been livin' in,

A-And, if you do not want to see me again,

I would understa-a-and! I would understa-a-and!"

John beckoned the crowds of London to join him and they did, just as the fire engines and police cars had arrived.

"I would understa-a-and! I would understa-a-and!"

Then, Sherlock joined along once more, a bit of a smile on his face. Slowly, he inched further away from the jump.

"I would understa-a-and! I would understa-a-and!"

Finally, John pulled him by the arm and onto the ground and hissed,

"Do that again and I'll murder you." Sherlock nodded and he played the last chord on the violin. The streets of London erupted with cheers and the two men bowed. John clutched his hand in pain.

"What's wrong?" asked Sherlock, walking over to examine it.

"I've got blisters on my fingers!" John moaned jokingly. Sherlock chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder blade.

"Come on, you sod. Let's get some coffee," he said.


End file.
